


Me to You

by Frejya



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Melancholy type of angst, bushrangers are like the australian highwaymen/cowboys, very minor mentions of verbal abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 07:48:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10532052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frejya/pseuds/Frejya
Summary: “Ah, if that was all it was, then maybe not. But on that final visitation, the two women shared the most passionate kiss. The warden assigned to the room reported that it was the most emotional moment she’d ever witnessed. The depth of emotion, love, admiration, nostalgia, longing and loss was unparalleled.”There are nods and murmurs of assent.“There is also Lena Luthor’s last words.”The tour guide pauses, knowing and relishing in the rapt attention of her captive audience, before she delivers the coup de grâce.-The Luthors were a poor selector family who saw themselves disenfranchised by a careless society and an oppressive police force. The Danvers lived on the other side of town, where affluence was abundant and privilege a birthright.The one that's set in the 19th century Victoria of bushrangers and gold rushes, and amidst the tumult and chaos, two girls find home in each other.Yet, as they grow older, death and prejudice threaten to tear them apart. Supercorp Bushranger AU.





	

_Six_

You read the simple inscription carved into stone. Its rough, careless scribble, with curves too sharp, lines too clumsy, is a poor substitute for your father. Still, you reach out to run your palm against its smooth surface, rest your forehead against cool stone. Enshrined in ephemeral exile from the world, you find that you are somehow warmer here than you ever feel at home.

-

The sun has long set when you finally return. Your stepmother doesn’t ever raise her voice. Instead, she radiates a cold fury. Venom spills from her tongue that cuts you deeper than any knife, it’s poison caustic and pervasive.

Long after you’ve retired to your shared room with Lex, her words still burn in your mind. They atrophy.

You only realise that you’re crying when your scratchy mattress dips, and thin but strong arms wrap around you, a hand at the back of your head to guide you to his chest. You burrow your face deeper, and a strangled, ugly sob rips through your lungs as you finally let yourself go.

//

_Ten_

You’re walking home from the tiny schoolhouse that provides basic education for children whose family can’t afford to pay, like yourself. You take the longer route today, the one that cuts through the woods and pretty lake that you and Lex would sneak out to swim in on warm summer days.

From the direction of the water, you hear the faint sound of someone – a girl – screaming frantically for help. You hesitate.

_Lena dear, you are to come home straight after morning lessons. I have some things I need you to do. If you don’t, you should leave me no choice but to punish you. You wouldn’t force your dear Mother to do such a horrid thing, would you?_

Your nearly shrivel at the thought of Mother’s smile – too thin, too cold –, the saccharine sweetness of her tone that sets off every alarm in your head, a cacophonous blaring of _dangerdangerdangerdanger._

Every bone in your body screams for you to head home. Nodding decisively, you steel your heart as you turn homewards.

The girl cries out again, a little louder, a little more afraid.

Even the strongest steel is no defence against the cry of an angel.

-

You walk the girl – _Kara_ – home after. She is so, so grateful, and words of thanks fall profusely from her pretty lips. You’re not used to people outside of your family talking to you, let alone so overtly displaying appreciation. You struggle for a moment to find an appropriate response before settling on a murmured _you’re welcome_.

Your heart stutters as you find yourself faced with what your addled mind can only describe as the embodiment of the sun. Kara smiles blindingly, and her brightness seeps into you through your pores. It infiltrates your bloodstream, weaving and flowing languidly, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. It slips into your heart – your walls crumble where they stand – and cocoons its warmth around the very centre of your being. You feel the edges of your lips tug upwards slowly, unabated.

-

When you arrive at her house, you’re first surprised by how nice it is. It is much fancier than your own.

Her parents thank you in the same profuse manner their daughter did. They end up gifting you the prettiest blue ribbon as a token of their gratitude. Its soft, silky material feels luxurious on your skin. Most importantly, its azure shade almost matches the colour of another pair of blues that hasn’t left your mind’s eye since that afternoon.

You don’t say anything that would reveal the extent of your pleasure at receiving the reward. But after, when you’re tucked into the safety of your own bed, you tie the ribbon gingerly around your wrist and fall asleep to dreams of eyes the colour of the summer sky and a smile with the radiance of the sun.

//

_Twelve_

“Checkmate.” You smile innocently at Lex, batting your lashes for good measure. He only chuckles and shakes his head, reaching a hand out to ruffle your hair.

“You were always smarter than me, Lee,” Lex says fondly. You close your eyes and lean into your brother’s hand, preening at his obvious pride and affection.

An incessant banging on the front door of your house whips your attention to it. You can feel Lex tense beside you. Mother isn’t home, so he goes to answer the door.

Mr Smith’s face, on an ordinary day, looks to have the unfortunate pleasure of having a tomato explode in his face, and he doesn’t bother to wipe away the mess afterwards. On this specific one, it appears a hive of the world’s angriest bees decided his face would be a comfortable home for their stingers. He bursts into your house the moment Lex opens the door.

“You dirty Luthors, it was one of you, wasn’t it?” Mr Smith’s cheeks are swollen in either anger or effort of movement, you can’t be certain. Before either of you can retort, he levels an accusing finger at Lex. “I’ve had three of my cattle disappear over the last week and I know it was you. You good for nothing selector leeches. All you do is steal from the rest of us.”

You bristle at that. But Lex, apparently, takes it a lot harder than you. He yells back at Mr Smith, letting him know exactly what he thought about his ‘lousy cattle’ and how your family doesn’t need them, no matter your indigence. A few choice words are screamed to indicate where, if he ever got his hands on the cattle, he would shove it in Mr Smith.

They get into an ugly shouting match. You don’t want to admit it but you’re afraid. You’re not afraid of Mr Smith, not really. You’re afraid of what he can do to Lex. You know that the town likes Mr Smith a lot more than they do your family, no matter that he’s an imbecile. You’re afraid that if Mr Smith decided to tell the police to take Lex away, they just might. And you wouldn’t know what to do if that were to happen. Lex is your whole world.

A charge is taken out against Lex the next day by Mr Smith. He doesn’t end up being convicted, yet you witness in the days following how people treat him differently, treat your family differently. You witness how, in your tiny town, arrest is treated with the same derision as conviction. And those sullied are looked upon with the same disdain afforded to filthy pests, as if your sole aim in life is to steal from the ‘good people’ in town.

Your heart hardens a little that day. You smile a little less.

-

You go to Kara’s place later that night with a clouded mind, half afraid that her parents may have turned into one of the sneering townspeople and chase you away, never to let you see your best friend again. You make your way dazedly through her pretty neighbourhood, through her manicured lawn right up to her beautifully painted door, and hesitate. The door opens without prompt, and the first plea doesn’t even leave your lips before you’re wrapped in tight twin hugs and quickly ushered up the stairs to Kara’s room.

You’ve never been so _relieved_ to see someone in your life. She’s looking at you with such tenderness, and you collapse into Kara’s open arms immediately, barely getting any actual words out as you bawl at the unfairness of it all. Absently, you feel yourself guided to her soft bed, Kara easing the two of you onto it, holding you tight as she rubs a hand soothingly on your back and her other tucks your head into her chest. You fall asleep to the warmth of gentle caresses on your skin and soft singing in your ear.

You think that, maybe, your world has expanded without you noticing to admit someone else into its privacy. Someone singularly dear to you.

//

_Fourteen_

“Lena dear, would you like some more bread?” Eliza asks, smiling warmly at you.

You flush a little and struggle to form words, eventually managing a soft, _yes please_ , and demurely accepting the basket offered to you. Dinner at the Danvers’ is a world apart from dinner at home. Everything is so _nice_ here and there’s so much food. Eliza and Jeremiah are generous and kind. The girl who sits beside you, with smiles that light up the room and easy affection, makes your heart swell to burst.

Yet, as you sit amidst the laughter and abundance in her world, you feel a strange tension deep within. A certain disconnect.

A hand rests gently on yours and you turn as Kara asks you a question. You shrug off your internal apprehension and focus on Kara. Warm-hearted, loving Kara. As long as you’re with Kara, everything is fine.

-

Later that night, amidst the tangle of sheets and limbs, you kiss Kara for the first time.

And, you think, if all the pain and suffering you’ve ever endured in your life is purgatory for this tiny window of heaven, it’s worth every last second.

//

_Sixteen_

Four sharp raps on your front door draws your and Lex’s attention to it. You feel a nauseating sense of déjà vu. Lex answers the door.

Constable Monel, along with three other officers, barge in, blustering and posturing. A clear act to intimidate. With glinting eyes and a smug smile, Monel mentions that Lex was spotted carrying a big hunk of meat home, and demands justification for his ability to possess what should have been a fairly expensive slice. The way he acts and speaks, it’s clear that Monel didn’t come with the intention to perform an investigation. His mind has already been made for an arrest. You’re reminded of hyenas circling and playing with their prey before they strike.

Your stomach churns and you feel an indignation, too familiar in your life, well defiant, directed at the repulsive man before you.

Monel’s lackeys move towards the kitchen and reappears moments later with all the evidence they need. It doesn’t matter that Lex attempts to explain that it was a gift from a friend as thanks for work.

The three constables strong-arm Lex into handcuffs and begin to pull him out of your home. Something visceral in you snaps and you fly into an unparalleled rage, launching yourself at them. You catch them by surprise and deliver a solid hook to the officer on Lex’s left before Monel backhands you hard enough that you’re sent sprawling onto the ground and your vision blurs.

“Stay out of this, _slag_.”

And where that should be anger at the derogation, all you feel is bitter resentment towards yourself, your own weakness.

Lex is gone before you can pick yourself up off the ground.

-

Lex is sentenced to two years of hard labour at Kilmore. In that time, you break the law heftily (theft, assault, getting into fights with the police) and spend too many nights within the cold stone walls of jail cells.

(They’re when you feel closest to Lex.)

Your stepmother doesn’t care enough to stop you.

-

Kara doesn’t really understand. But, _oh_ , she tries.

“I don’t know why you keep doing this to yourself, Lena. It hurts when you do. When you hurt yourself.” Her azure eyes, where sorrow should never taint and spill, glint dangerously close.

You don’t know how to explain yourself to the girl who breathes and lives in love. Not in any way that she would truly understand. You find that you don’t want to. Because for Kara to perceive pain and guilt and prejudice and loss like you do, she would have to live through it. And you’d kill yourself before you let that happen.

So you kiss her and say, “I’m sorry, my love.”

(And you truly are. For everything you’ve done. For everything you’re not.)

//

_Eighteen_

Twenty-two months into his sentence, Lex dies in prison.

Word reaches you of how he was worked to the bone, whipped, tortured until his physical body simply gave up.

Come nightfall, you’ve gathered essentials and loaded them onto the family’s horse. Without a backward glance at the house you’ve existed in for sixteen years, you ride east, away.

You make a single stop at the pretty house at the other side of town. The tree that grows beside it stands strong as it has since you were ten, its low branches allowing access to the second-floor bedroom with balcony door unlocked, always unlocked, welcoming you in.

Kara is a vision, an angel, as she slumbers. Her features are softened by sleep, her hair spun gold that haloes her aspect.

Your heart aches as you gaze at your first and only love of your life. You think, maybe, you can understand Icarus’s fascination with the sun. Kara’s love is warmth and light in your dreary existence. It’s magnetic, intoxicating. Every second you spend with her, your heart yearns for _moremoremore._

But you’re also aware of what happened to the boy who flew too close. Kara is too bright, too good. Her world too full of light. You wouldn’t survive long under her brilliance.

But under the cover of dusk, you permit yourself one last chance to confess your love – onto her cheeks, her forehead, her nose, her lips. You taste her sweetness and revel in her warmth. Kara shifts in her sleep, a faint smile tugging on her lips.

-

When you finally leave later that night, you leave too the last of your beating heart. You trust that Kara will keep it safe for you.

For if it’s not your lot to deserve happiness, you hope that you’ll be given another chance in your next lifetime. That you’ll be born into the world at the same time and fall in love in the same way with Kara all over again. Except you pray that next time, the world won’t be as hard on two girls who love each other.

You take to the bushes east of town. And as the winds roar past you to whence you came, so too the life you’ve known.

//

_Epilogue_

“We’ve come to the end of the tour at the Old Melbourne Gaol. I hope you’ve all had a lovely time. Does anybody have any questions?” the tour guide asks.

A little boy sat atop his mother’s shoulders raises his hand, waving it around in excitement.

“Yes, dear?”

“What ‘appens to Kiera?” he fumbles through the different sounds with his infant tongue.

The tour guide smiles. “Well, she went on to become a teacher and eventually got married. But my favourite reading is this, and most historians agree: despite the circumstances, the two women stayed very much in love for the rest of their lives.”

A teenage tourist at the back joins, “How do you know that?”

“Because when Lena Luthor was eventually caught after the biggest showdown in Australian Bushranger history and sentenced to be hung, she was allowed one final visitation. Kara Danvers was the last person she saw before her execution.”

“That still doesn’t really prove anything.”

“Ah, if that was all it was, then maybe not. But on that final visitation, the two women shared the most passionate kiss. The warden assigned to the room reported that it was the most emotional moment she’d ever witnessed. The depth of emotion, love, admiration, nostalgia, longing and loss was unparalleled.”

There are nods and murmurs of assent.

“There is also Lena Luthor’s last words.”

The tour guide pauses, knowing and relishing in the rapt attention of her captive audience, before she delivers the coup de grâce:

“Such is life. And if such is the life I've led, I confide wholly in its goodness: it is the life that led me to you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to all who read my fics! This one's a bit of a mess and I decided to just upload it before I could agonise over it any more. I originally intended to make it longer but I didn't like how I was writing the lengthier bits and it was becoming too clunky, so I opted for this shorter snapshot style. I hope it reads at least somewhat smoothly.
> 
> The story is loosely based on Australia's most famous bushranger, Ned Kelly and his troubled relationship with society and the law.
> 
> talk to me at oraffe.tumblr.com! I promise I don't bite.


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